Robin Tremayne / A Story of the Marian Persecution

by Emily Sarah Holt

After him came Sir John Gates, who said little, and would have no handkerchief over his eyes; and his head fell at the third blow.

Last came Sir Thomas Palmer, “nothing in whose life became him like the leaving it.” For when the people bade him good morrow, he said,—“I do not doubt but that I have a good morrow, and that I shall have a better good even.” And then he went on to tell them, “that he had been lawfully condemned, and that he did therein thank God for His mercy: for that sithence his coming into the Tower, he had seen himself, how utterly and verily vile his soul was—yea, he did not think any sin to be, that he had not plunged even into the midst of it (Note 1); I and he had moreover seen how infinite were God’s mercies, and how Jesus sitteth a Redeemer at the right hand of God, by whose means His people shall live eternally. For I have learned (said he) more in one little dark corner in yonder Tower, than ever I learned by any travail in so many places as I have been.” And he desired the people to pray for him, for he “did in no wise fear death.” So, taking the executioner by the hand, he said he forgave him heartily, but entreated him not to strike till he had said a few prayers, “and then he should have good leave.” And so he knelt down, and laid his head on the block, and prayed; then lifting his head again, once more asked all present to pray for him; and so again laid down his head, which was stricken from him at one stroke.

And that night Isoult Avery wrote in her diary—“Verily, I do know that the mercies of God are infinite; and I bless Him heartily therefor. But had I been to say any that I knew which was little like to come unto them, I had named this man. God be lauded if He hath shown him what is sin, and what is Christ, in his last hours, and hath so received him up to that His infinite mercy. I marvel what sort shall be the meeting betwixt my Lord, and George Bucker, and the Duke of Somerset, and him.”

At length Mr Throgmorton found his expected opportunity, and offered his petition for Mr Underhill’s release. This petition set forth “his extreme sickness and small cause to be committed unto so loathsome a gaol,” and besought that he might therefore be released, offering sureties to be forthcoming when called upon: these were to be himself and his brother-in-law John Speryn, a merchant of London, and a man “very zealous in the Lord.” Poor Underhill was still very seriously ill. “I was cast,” he tells us, “into an extreme burning ague, that I could take no rest; desiring to change my lodging, and so did from one to an other, but none I could abide, there was so much noise of prisoners and evil savours. The keeper and his wife offered me his own parlour, where he lay himself, which was furthest from noise, but it was near the kitchen, the savour whereof I could not abide. Then did she lodge me in a chamber wherein she said never no prisoner lay, which was her store-chamber, where she said all the plate and money lay, which was much.” (Harl. Ms. 425, folio 91, a.) Mr Ive reported that Mr Underhill could be no weaker than he was, and live. His friend Dr Record had been to see him in the prison, whom he describes as “Doctor of Physic, singularly seen (very skilful) in all the Seven Sciences (Grammar, Rhetoric, Logic, Arithmetic, Geometry, Music, and Astronomy), and a great devyne.” Mr Rose took his deprivation very quietly. Some of his friends thought he might be all the safer for it, if the persecutors had done all they cared about doing to him. He had hired three rooms for the present in a house in Leadenhall Street. Tidings of further persecution came now daily. “Robin’s orders do seem going further off than ever,” lamented Isoult. For Bishops Hooper of Gloucester and Coverdale of Exeter were cited before the Council; and the Archbishop, and the Dean of Saint Paul’s; and mass was now celebrated in many churches of London. A rumour went abroad of the lapsing of the Archbishop, and that he had sung mass before the Queen; but it proved false. Again the altar was set up in Saint Paul’s Cathedral; and when Bishop Bonner came from the Marshalsea, great rejoicing was made. Many by the way bade him welcome home, and “as many of the women as might kissed him.” No Gospeller would have kissed him for a King’s ransom. On the 5th of September came Mr Ive, with news of Mr Underhill at once good and bad. He was released from Newgate, but was so weak and ill that they were obliged to carry him home in a horse-litter, and the gaoler’s servant bore him down the stairs to the litter in his arms like a child; and for all this, those who accompanied him (Mrs Underhill, Mr Speryn, Mr Ive, and others) were afraid lest he should not live till he came home. They were compelled to go very gently, and frequently to halt; so that two hours were required to pass through the city, from Newgate to Aldgate, and night fell before he could get to his house: where he now remained in the same weak and deplorable state, and all the Gospellers were asked to pray for him.

To the great relief of all Protestants, the Archbishop published a letter in which he utterly denied that he had ever said or promised to say mass, to gain favour with the Queen.

“I could have told you so much,” said John. “My Lord Archbishop is not the man to curry Favelle.”

“Now, I had thought he rather were,” said Dr Thorpe.

“One of your Lutheran fantasies,” answered John.

Which rather annoyed the old man, who did not like to be reminded that he was or had been a Lutheran; and such reminders he occasionally received from Mr John Avery.

“Have you the news?” said Mr Rose, on the evening of the 14th of September.